


She'll bite you while you're dreamin'

by CoffeeHunt



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Flash Fic, Gen, Implied Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 05:17:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13991271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeHunt/pseuds/CoffeeHunt
Summary: I was thinking about Briala tying into the next game and got caught up on the idea of her sort of foolishly romanticizing Solas, not really meaning romantic feelings, but my Inquisitor being stupidly in love and unable to see the fucked up reality of everything either. I don't know. Have some word vomit.Title from River Deep, Devil Makes Three





	She'll bite you while you're dreamin'

**Author's Note:**

> Been thinking about Trespasser a lot lately and popped out this 20min flash fic writing while on lunch break so might not be super accurate to the ending. Going from memory.  
> Takes place between the final goodbye with Solas and the ending scene of Trespasser.

Trying to hold back her screams with gritted teeth, El’lanhanan sucked a heavy breath into her lungs.

“Call the healers, quickly, all of them!” She could hear Dorian shouting somewhere behind her head as he pushed them through the Eluvian. There was a clamor of steel and the burnt scent of magic everywhere around her but it was indecipherable through the haze of rushing colors and sounds. She could hear Dorian and Cullen shouting, but the voices only made sound, the words indecipherable. Everything was spinning so fast, she couldn’t pin down sight or thought. She knew, in the removed sort of way that made her feel outside of her body, that something terrible had happened. Why couldn’t she remember? All she knew in the moment was the pain, nausea turning her stomach over and over, and flash of cold overcoming her. She felt brittle and heave as stone all at once, present but lost in the haze- toeing the line between here and nowhere.

Oh.

She was dying. She could feel it.

In that instant, as if understanding had brought back her knowing; now she could remember.

Solas… Fen’Harel…no, Solas. He kissed her. That was when the suffering started.

Her thoughts stayed on the lingering remembrance of his kiss and blatantly ignored all other pains. He was, even after the years between them, her greatest weakness.

No, that wasn’t right either. Not her greatest weakness. Not anymore.

 

Her throat grew tight; her vision blurry now with tears instead of the physical pain, her heart began to race as fear swept through her. She couldn’t die, not now—not yet. She had something so much more than the Inquisition to live for now.

“Vahl,” She heard her own weeping voice calling out, “Vahl, mir da’len. Ar lath ma da’len.”

“Hush, girl.” Morrigan’s blurry face came into view, hovering closely over her. “Don’t speak so. We’ll make you right again, for now you must fall into uthenra.”

 

Then there was nothing but the darkness.

 

\--

 

She knew this place, she thought.

All was dark, an endless stretch of ink black, but somewhere vivid in her memory.

Hallathen’him.

It must be.

She stepped along a rocky path she could not see. Slowly, like moving through a dense fog, the space became clear. She could hear the echo of ocean waves; smell the musk of damp soil and salt, feel the cool breeze that swept through the deep cave.

“What a dismal place to find yourself.” A woman spoke near her, though she could not yet see her. To know a person’s presence but unable to see them would at any other time have made El’lanhanan anxious, but here in this place of not real she feel her calmness roll over like a tide of acceptance. She did not fear this place, and knew she had nothing to fear from anything in this place. It was her place after all.

“You have a sound understanding of magic for one who has none of it.” The woman said again. El’lanhanan could the smirk of pompous Orleison in her tone now.

“I knew someone once who love to explain all things magi, no matter if you wielded it or not.”

“I think we might know the same someone.” The foreigner smiled. She came out of the darkness now, like parting a curtain. She wore the polished mask of Orleision fashion but it did little to distract from the plain muddled tones of her simple gown.

“Of all the people to dream of, I say you are the last one I expected, Briala.” El’lanhanan greeted her with nonchalance, seating herself on the knee-high stone out-crop she could not see until she remembered its place in the cave.

“We both know this isn’t a normal dream.” Briala commented, sweeping through the cave-memory like it was the Grand Ball. “Why here?” She asked, looking around with an unimpressed disgust to rival Vivienne.

El’lanhanan shrugged, looking around the dreary, moss covered, cave. “I suppose it’s because it’s a familiar place. Or maybe because I miss it.”

“And what is there to miss, exactly?”

El’lanhanan laughed, carefree and honest because—well Briala was right. This was a dismal place to be.

 

“When I was younger, just starting my apprenticeship as clan hunter, my Keeper brought me and the others my age here. She told us a story about a Dalish man who died horribly because of some humans.” El’lan’hanan laughed, folding her legs up under her. Briala seemed unimpressed, but listened.

“The story says this Dalish man loved a human woman. They hid their affair for years until the woman got tired of hiding and begged him to leave his clan and run away with her. He refused her-- his love for her could not be put before the clan. The woman ran to her husband and said there was an elf hiding out on their land. Then the shem village came out in mobs and beat the man to death.”

“What a horrible story.” Briala laughed.

El’lanhanan smiled, “Yes, I suppose it is. We call this place Hallathen’him . He was a useless man really, but he had a duty to the clan, he couldn’t forsake for the selfishness of love. His noble sacrifice helped him become a legend among the Dalish. Or so Keeper said.”

Briala paced the cave entrance, arms crossed over her slight frame, “I suppose you feel some special connection to this man and his sad story?”

El’lanhanan laughed, short but open mouthed and loud, “Not at all. I think he was probably an idoit.”

“Then why has your dreaming brought us here?”

El’lanhanan shrugged again, “I always liked this place. It was cool when the sun was hot and quiet when my brothers were pestering me. I liked the sound of the ocean.”

“Surely the irony of its history isn’t lost on you.”

“Not at all,” El’lanhanan laughed “but that’s not why you’ve slipped into my memories now is it?”

 

Briala turned her sharp eyes on the other elvhen woman before her, watching as a hawk watches a mouse scamper across a field.

“I’m curious, Inquisitor, now that you know the truth of your once-lover… what will you do?”

“My ‘once-lover’?” It was her turn to turn her gaze on Briala. She knew, somewhere in her gut, the moment she woman had stepped out of the darkness that she was here working on Solas’ agenda. The realization she may not be here with him, but for him made that same place in her gut twist with the ugliest jealousy.

“Has he sent you?” She asked, already knowing the answer but still compelled to ask. “Does he even know you’re here?”

Briala, even in this dream, flushed up to the tips of her ears. El’lanhanan continued, “I wonder what he might say if he finds out the things his little spymaster gets up to while he’s not looking.” 

“And you?” Briala snapped back, bearing teeth, “I wonder too what he might have to say if he were to discover the secrets you keep?”

El’lanhanan laughed with a roll of her eyes, un threatened, “We both know you wouldn’t be here if you wanted him to know that. That would ruin your plans wouldn’t it? How will you help the Dread Wolf conquer the world if he forsakes you and his great duty?”

“You dare insult—“ Briala was red now, but it washed away the moment El’lanhanan swept to her feet.

“Yes, I dare!” Briala tried to step away, this was her dream however and the foreign elf only found black darkness at her back. “You fear and revere him for a title he never wanted, “ El’lanhanan sneered “between the two of us, it is not me who is the fool.”

Briala tensed, like a snake coiled to strike, shoulders hiked high; “A bluff. You won’t do anything. If you had any intention of telling him you would have in the crossroads.”

El’lanhanan couldn’t keep the sneer off her face any longer, “A bluff you felt so compelled to worm your way into my mind to put down? I doubt you’re as sure as you say.”

“Funny. I too doubt you’re as confident.” Briala, gaining her edge again, stepped closer. “I think you know how important our mission is. How much the Elvhen need Fen’Harel isn’t lost on you, of all people. You haven’t told him of your da’len because you, perhaps unknowingly even, do not wish to distract him from this. “

For a moment El’lanhanan faltered. She expected the jab, but it still cut through. It still rang with some hidden truth she couldn’t admit to—even if only to herself. But no, that wasn’t it. Not all of it, at least. She was afraid. Afraid to tell him, afraid it wouldn’t mean anything to him. Or worse, afraid it would mean everything to him. Would it be enough to change his mind? Or would he simply take what he thought was his right to take and disappear again back into obscurity?

No. No, she wouldn’t allow herself to think like that of him. He had yet to truly cross that line in her mind. Despite Dorian’s heated insults of his character and Cassandra’s blatant distrust of her faith in him; she still loved him, she still trusted him, and she would give him the benefit of the doubt until he proved her wrong on all her accounts of him.

“You idiot. You come here to sulk through my memories, thinking yourself the grand little spymaster, the invaluable right hand of Fen’Harel—what a joke you are. You truly know nothing of Solas. You’ve romanticized this idea of him, built up the myth around him, made a God out of him. You’re naivety laughs in the face of everything he stood for against the Eluvanaris. I will turn his heart away from this fruitless endeavor, and I will do so without resorting to emotional black-mail. If you mean to embitter me toward him or him toward me, you have grossly mistaken our relationship. We may not see eye-to-eye on this matter, but that won’t be the thing that ends us—and neither will you. Now, girl, you can leave my mind-- go tell him or don’t, that’s your risk to take. Sooner or later he will know the truth of things, sooner or later we will resolve this issue between us, and when that is done we will find a way to help the people together. Figure out what side you want to be standing on when that happens, Briala.”

 

Then there was nothing but the darkness.

 

\---

 

Everything was warm. Too warm.

El’lanhanan could feel the sweat sticking to her neck and back, a familiar weight pressed against her breast. She curled her arm around, pressing the huddle of blankets closer. The left side of her body ached horribly, but she lost the pain in the comfort of sticky heat against her body.

“Vahl’envhen.”

“He’s sleeping.” Bull’s voice drew her to the sight of him, hunched over the bed on her other side; his eyes were dark and his complexion pallid. He looked worn and miserable and she couldn't fight the guilt that took her.

“Everything is okay, lethalin.” El’lanhanan whispered to him, but before the words could even leave her lips she felt her throat tighten with choked sobs.

How embarrassing, she thought as the tears washed down her face. Bull pressed forward, his massive hand cupping the side of her face as he pressed his forehead to her’s.

“Don’t do that, Boss.” With her eyes squeezed shut she couldn’t see his face, but it seemed his voice sounded as tight as her’s felt. “You’re alive, you’re safe.”

Vahlen’vhen’s springy curls tickled under her chin. It was such a small thing, but it yanked open some deep wound she didn’t realize she was carrying. She couldn’t stop her sobbing, could hardly suck in a breath between the gross weeping she found herself caught in. She couldn’t clutch at Vahlen’vhen tight enough-- one arm wouldn’t seem to work for her. All her bravado with Briala gone, she was utterly consumed with fear suddenly. What was Solas thinking? How much of his plan had he already succeeded at? What would Briala tell him? Why couldn’t she wrap her arms around Vahl’len?

 

“El’lan.” Bull gripped her shoulders, the heat of his skin still pressed like an anchor all its own to her forehead. “El’lan, breath.” He commanded.

She tried to listen, damn did she try, but everything hurt and everything blurred around her and she had never been so scared in her whole life.

“Bull, please, Bull,” She called to him. “Please keep Vahl safe. No matter what happens; he is the most important thing. If Skyhold burns you have to keep him safe. Promise me.”

“Nothing is going to burn, Boss.”

“Promise.”

 

Bull sighed, callused palms moving down to smooth the wild curls of Vahl’lenvhen’s small head. He was quiet for too long, contemplating too much.

“Bull.” El’lanhanan choked, her one good hand reaching to clutch at the meat of his forearm. “Do this for me, please. Something horrible is going to happen, I know it. I just know it. Something is coming and I’m scared of it, Bull. I’m scared what will happen to Vahl’len if I’m gone. I’m scared of Vivienne locking him up in the Circle, I’m scared of Solas starting a war, and I’m scared the Chantry won’t let us keep the Inquisition… Please, I just—I need to know someone will keep him safe. You and Dorian—I know you can do that. You love him as much as anyone, you’ll keep him safe. Promise.”

Bull let out a shaky breath, but nodded in agreement. “Okay, Boss. I promise. We’ll take care of him if it comes to that. But it’s not going to come to that, you’re going to be fine, everything will be fine. We’ll get through this, El’lan.”

 

With that the flood of emotions quelled, finally she could breathe again. Her good arm wound around Vahl’lenvhen again letting the heat of his little body warm her down to her bones. She felt like she could think again.

“Oh, what a mess we are.”

The deep rumble of Bull’s chuckle helped to lift the heavy mood still lingering. 

“The best kind of mess there is.”


End file.
